All: A Love Story
by She-Ra Princess of Power
Summary: It's hate at first sight when Ethan and Thersa run into each other the first time. But sometimes, hate can grow to love...
1. Prologue

**__**

Prologue 

"This is the final boarding call for Trans Atlantic Air flight number 1257, destination John F. Kennedy Airport, New York City, The United States of America…" 

Sighing quietly, Ethan Crane stood from his seat, and turned to face his wife of three years Gwen. Gwen's lips were drawn into a straight line, her dull blue eyes surveying the bustling activity of the Paris International Airport. 

"Gwen," Ethan murmured softly, kneeling down in front of her, taking her small hands within his, "that's my flight." 

Gwen just nodded and removed her hands from his grasp. Ethan felt a twinge of sadness as she did this, knowing fully well that this was the last time he would being seeing her for who knew how long. 

"Are you sure about this, Gwen?" he asked quietly, trying to meet her gaze. She kept her eyes focused right above his head, avoiding his gaze. 

"I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life," she said coldly, folding her slender arms across her chest. Ethan reached up to push a strand of her auburn hair away from her face, but she jerked away from his touch as if it might scald her. 

"Gwen…I love you. I love you more than anything on this planet…please, baby, can't we work this out?" 

Ethan's hopes began to rise as Gwen 's steely glare softened. She let her eyes meet his and for a moment, Ethan thought she might change her mind, that this "trial separation" of theirs wouldn't be happening. 

"Ethan, I've loved you since we were little kids, and I'll always love you…but until you can make _me_ your number one priority, and not your job, then this is going to be for the best. Maybe not having me with you will make you realize that what we have together is something special." 

"I'm sorry Gwen, so, so sorry. I pray to God that you know that." 

"I know you are Ethan," Gwen whispered, taking his face between her trembling fingers. She bent her head down and brought his lips to meet hers. A kiss that was sweetly bitter, filled with the promise of goodbye. 

"Gwen…I promise you, baby, we're going to work this out. If it's the last thing that I ever do, I _will_ make things right with you." 

He stood up, and grabbed his briefcase and ticket from the chair beside Gwen. As he turned towards the gate to board the flight, he felt Gwen's hand on his arm. He whirled around, heart thumping, hope once again rising to the surface, and was surprised to see tears running down her face. His heart ached for her, ached for what they had, and for what he had ruined. 

"Goodbye, Ethan." 

Her words had the tone of finality. It was over. 

Ethan Crane knew, for the first time in life, what it felt like to lose. 

And he didn't like it one bit. 


	2. Chapter One

"Six o'clock already I was just in the middle of a dream, I was kissing Valentino by a crystal blue Italian stream…" 

It was only three in the afternoon, but already it was a great day. Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald had rolled out of bed at 6:30 in the morning, looked in the mirror, and was happy to find that she was having a good hair day. A fantastic hair day, actually, and she hadn't had one of those in a looong time. 

Once she had made her way downstairs to grab a bowl of cereal before driving over to Crane mansion, where she worked as Ivy Crane's personal assistant, she was surprised to find that her younger brother Miguel had prepared _migas_, eggs prepared with green and red bell peppers, onions, and a few of Miguel's "secret" ingridients, along with warm, fresh flour tortillas to replace her usual bowl of Chex. Theresa's mouth watered as the aroma of her favorite morning treat filled her senses, and after she had eaten all that her stomach could hold, she left for work, not even minding that it was only eight in the morning. 

Once she arrived at the Crane mansion, Mrs. Crane informed her that because of a job well done on a garden party Theresa organized back in April for the Junior League, she would be receiving a bonus on her next pay check. It was a hard party to plan for- peole kept calling and confirming their attendance, then calling two days later and cancelling, and then calling and confirming _AGAIN_. It was a nightmare, and Theresa was secretly pleased to see that her efforts had not gone unnoticed by her employer. Mrs. Crane left shortly after that, saying something about picking her heartbroken son up from the airport. That had left Theresa all day to begin planning a benefit dinner Mrs. Crane was holding for the children's wing of the hospital. 

And now, it was only three o'clock, which meant that she'd be able to pick up a spare shift at the Book Café, her part time job. 

And to top it all off, it wasn't everyday that the radio station played the Bangles! 

"It's just another manic Monday…I wish it were a Sunday…" 

Theresa eased her car down Atlantic Avenue, taking in the view of the ocean not even a half of a mile away. It was an early summer day, not too hot, with a light northern breeze blowing in from Canada. _Perfect_. The kind of dreamy days that Theresa loved. 

Theresa had lived in Harmony, Maine her entire life. Three years ago, she had left Harmony for a semester to attend the University of Maine- Portland. That hadn't gone too well- she was too close to her family to be so far away- and had returned to Harmony the next semester. She now attended the U of M in Ellsworth, just a thirty-minute drive up Interstate One. 

At twenty-two, Theresa was a bright young woman with a strong head on her shoulders. She was talented beyond belief in anything she put her mind to, whether it be singing, or fashion design, or planning major social events. She somehow managed to work not only both of her jobs during the school year, but to also take a full load of classes. 

But, Theresa wasn't perfect. Wasn't anywhere near perfect. She already had five speeding tickets to her name. She couldn't cook to save her life. She could be way too goofy, and had a tendency to be slightly vain. Both of her credit cards were maxed, but when you added all of her imperfections to her many talents, the end result was a beautiful young woman who was personable. Likable. Someone you could relate to. 

"Had to catch a morning train, have to be at work by nine…if I had an airplane…" 

Theresa sped up as she went down Atlantic Avenue, trying to catch the light at the intersection of Main Street before it turned red. It was a long shot, but the light at Atlantic and Main took _ages_ to change cycles! 

As her speedometer rose to near eighty, she put her blinker on and glanced around. The light was yellow, and she was going to make it! 

As long as the Harmony PD wasn't anywhere in sight. 

She hit the light just as it turned red. Not caring, she flew through the intersection, still singing along with radio. 

"Cause it takes me so long-" 

Theresa slammed on her brakes as a stray dog ran across the street, seeming to smile up at her as he trotted on by happily. She was releasing the brakes when she glanced into her rearview mirror and saw a shiny red sportscar barreling down the hill towards her. 

Theresa heard the noise before she felt the impact. A loud screeching of brakes from behind her, then the crunching of metal meeting metal. 

Theresa grasped onto her steering wheel for dear life, praying to God that this wasn't the end. 

Luckily, it was over as quickly as it had happened, and with shaking legs, Theresa managed to pull herself from the car. Other than a knot forming on her forehead where it had hit the steering wheel, Theresa didn't have any injuries. 

Theresa walked up to the sports car, surveying it for damage. Her older brother, Luis, had always told her that the first step at an accident- after checking for injuries, of course- was to examine the damage. To her relief, neither car was bad off, just dented from the impact of the accident. 

The driver's side door swung open, and a tall, decently built guy jumped out of the car. He ran towards Theresa, his face ashen with worry. 

As he came closer, Theresa drew in a sharp intake of breath. Standing before her was the most gorgeous man she had ever had the joy of laying her eyes on. 

And Theresa suddenly found herself forgetting about the wreck. Forgetting that her head was beginning to throb. Forgetting that this wreck was probably her fault, and her insurance rates were going to shoot through the roof. 

Because at that moment, all she could think about was the deep blue of his eyes, the curve of his jawline, and what it would feel like to have his kissable lips on her mouth…


	3. Chapter Two

**__**

Chapter Two 

__

"Ethan, dear, I know that now isn't the best time to be talking to you about this, but I think you should know what's been going on here at home since you've been away." 

Ethan Crane couldn't stand the tone of voice his mother was using. Very hushed, very secretive. He knew what she was about to share with him was going to be bad, something that he didn't want to hear. 

From the second he had seen his mother at the airport in Portland, he knew something wasn't right. Perhaps it was the sadness that filled her eyes. The light sprinkling of gray in her shining golden hair. The tiny, telltale wrinkles that hadn't been there the last time he had seen his mother, almost a year ago at his sister's graduation from boarding school. 

She had skirted the issue for awhile as they made their way out of the airport, keeping in mind the Crane image that they had to uphold in public. Once they were safely tucked inside the limousine, though, Ivy felt the need to warn her son of the troubles brewing at the Crane Estate. 

"Well, Mother, why don't you just go ahead and blurt it out. I mean, what could be worse than the woman that I'm in love with telling me that she feels we need to separate for a while, because apparently, I'm a no good work-a-holic bastard who doesn't love her anymore and takes advantage of her love for me an- 

"Ethan, your father and I are getting a divorce." 

****

That shut Ethan up quickly. 

He felt his jaw go slack as his mother's words echoed through his mind. 

"Ethan, your father and I are getting a divorce." 

"Father and I are getting a divorce." 

"Getting a divorce." 

"Divorce…" 

Ethan violently shook his head, trying to get a grasp on himself. 

"Mother, I must have misunderstood you. You didn't just say that you and Father are divorcing…did you?" 

The look on his mother's answered his question. 

And that was when Ethan Crane realized that the life that he had known since, well, **forever** was changing. 

And not for the better. 

Ethan, for the life of himself, could not believe this was happening. The conversation he had shared with his mother on the way back from the airport continued to float in his head all day, so the second that they had arrived at the mansion, he had darted off for his old car, still in mint condition, a 1997 Ford Mustang. His baby. 

He was so relieved to find that her engine still purred as gently that day as it did the day he had brought her home from the dealership. This was exactly what he needed: to drive around his hometown, and let the warm ocean air clear his head. That was the thing he had missed the most while he was in Paris. The way the New England weather had such a grip on his entire being. 

Ethan cruised around Harmony for a bit, reliving old memories, and checking out what was new. But his mother's words…they wouldn't leave his mind. And that disturbed him beyond belief. 

Ethan remembered a little coffee shop that was down Main Street, and decided that was what he needed. A warm cup of coffee and the new John Grisham novel would do wonders for his mood. He was sure of that. 

__

"Your father and I are getting a divorce." 

This was horrible. Were the vows of the Catholic Church no longer sacred? Was this going to be the new trend, trial separations and divorces among the upper crust of New England society? 

All Ethan knew was that he missed his wife. He knew he wasn't the best husband, but he hadn't even realized how bad things were becoming until _that day_. 

The day that he arrived home from work a little after midnight to find Gwen sitting at their dining room table, arms folded tightly across her chest, tears streaming down her delicate face. A pile of wrapped presents sat in the middle of the table, and two place settings were set with now limp salad and warm wine. The candles that had been lit were nearly stubs now, after many hours of being lit, waiting to cast a warm glow over a couple deeply in love. 

__

"Um, hey, baby," Ethan said softly as he looked around the dining room. He bent down to give his wife a kiss, but she jerked away, her usually calm cerulean eyes shooting venomous daggers into him. 

"Fuck you." 

It was almost a whisper, but Ethan heard her loud and clear. Ethan took a step back in shock, not believing what his wife was saying to him. 

"I said, FUCK YOU, ETHAN CRANE!" she screamed, jumping out of her chair. In her haste, the chair tumbled over, crashing against the cool tile floored. 

"I heard you, Gwen. But I-" 

"Oh, shut up. Just shut up. Do you have any idea what today is? ANY? At all?" 

And with a sinking feeling, Ethan realized that he **did** know what that day was. 

It was their three-year anniversary of being man and wife. 

And Ethan had completely forgotten about it. 

Ethan closed his eyes for a moment as he sped down the steep hill off Main Street, wishing that he could go back to that day, and skip work and spend the day making love to his wife and showering her with presents and reminding her that she was Ethan's world, his everything. 

__

But you can't turn back the hands of time, Ethan thought miserably as he opened his eyes back up. 

And realized he was speeding right towards a little white Mazda that was stopped in the middle of the street. 

Ethan slammed on his brakes, but he knew that it was useless. He was going to hit the car, so he braced himself for the worst. 

****~~~~****~~~~****~~~~****~~~~****~~~~****~~~~ 

"Miss…are you okay?" 

The tiny girl that stood before Ethan was frozen in place, a dazed look on her beautiful face. Ethan could see a large goose egg already appearing on her forehead, and Ethan was somewhat worried that she might have a concussion. 

She was the kind of girl that Ethan and his boarding school buddies would drool over back in the day. Lush black hair. Tanned, creamy skin. But it was her eyes…though they were off in some far away place at that moment, Ethan could see the light that radiated from them. 

If it weren't for those eyes, Ethan would have brushed her beauty off as sexy. Glamorous. But the eyes…they made her seem so _real_. So…soo... 

__

Perfect. 

Ethan shook his head, clearing his mind of where his thoughts were leading him. 

Although it was a welcome relief to have a bit of distraction from the thoughts that had been clouding his mind all day. 

"Um, miss? Are you doing okay?" 

Ethan took a step closer to her, suddenly overwhelmed by the soft scent of warm vanilla. The scent made him slightly dizzy, slightly nauseous…and slightly guilty, because he was standing here practically drooling over a child. 

Her eyes slowly came back into focus, and she smiled up at him. 

"Um…hi. My heads a bit sore, but other than that…how are you?" 

"Oh, um, well, I'm fine. Not a scratch on me." He smiled lightly at her, feeling like a moron. 

And he _was_ fine. 

Really, he was. Until he saw the huge dent that was now on the bumper of his prized Mustang. 

And the toll of the day was finally starting to wash over him. 

"Well, Miss…" 

"Theresa. Theresa Lo-" 

"Well, Miss _Theresa_, I'm glad to hear that you are okay. Because now, I have to ask you- **WHAT IN GOD'S NAME WERE YOU DOING STOPPED IN THE MIDDLE OF MAINSTREET? **" 

Theresa's mouth dropped open a bit, and she took a step back, her eyes starting to mist up. 

And Ethan instantly regretted yelling at her. Regretted taking out his troubles on this…kid, especially since he knew he was as much to blame…well, _ALMOST_ as much to blame in this as she was. 

But just as Ethan was about to apologize, Theresa's gaze iced over, and she stepped back towards him, hands on her tiny hips. 

"Well, Mister, I have a question for _you_. **WHAT IN GOD'S NAME WERE _YOU_ DOING DRIVING DOWN MAINSTREET AT A SPEED WHERE YOU COULDN'T BRAKE IN TIME TO AVOID ME?** God, I hate people like you. Stuck up rich-" 

"Hey, now-" 

"JERKS, who think that they can do no wrong. Ugh, why don't you just give me your insurance info, and you can-" 

Ethan had just about had it. So much for not taking his troubles out on the kid. 

"_My_ insurance info? I don't think so, Theresa. This was obviously _your_ fault, and I think that you are the one who is going to have to pay for this." 

"You know what? Why don't we let our insurance companies battle this out, because I am late for work, and I can see that we are going nowhere with this little conversation." 

Theresa spun on her heel and marched to her car. She grabbed her wallet, and walked back over to Ethan, digging out her driver's license and insurance card. 

He snatched the items from her out stretched hand and walked back to his car and opened the dashboard. He glanced over her license. _Name: Lopez- Fitzgerald, Theresa. Birthday: July 15, 1978…_ The kid was only two years younger than he? What a laugh! 

He found his license and insurance card, and walked it over to Theresa. 

"Thank you oh so much, Mr.…" 

Her voice trailed off as she looked over his license. She lifted her eyes off of it, up at Ethan, and back down. Realization washed over her features, and it was all Ethan could do to not laugh. 

The look on her face was priceless.


	4. Chapter Three

**__**

Chapter Three 

"Cat got your tongue?" 

It was all Theresa could do to keep her mouth shut and not say something that she would inevitably regret. Like _drop dead_. 

But staring at his license…she knew she had to be on her best behavior. This guy wasn't just some wealthy prick like she had originally suspected. This guy was _Ethan Crane_, President of Crane Industries at age 24. The son of her employer. 

And, as much as she wanted to wipe that smug grin off of his face, this guy was…her dream man. 

Well, he _had_ been her dream man. Until he had opened his cocky mouth and blamed the entire incident on her, when it was clearly both of their faults. Actually, the dumb dog Theresa had braked for was actually at fault here, but, it wasn't like you could really blame a dog for a car wreck. 

"I won't be needing these after all, Mr. Crane," Theresa finally replied quietly, handing Ethan his license and insurance card. Ethan snatched them back from her, and for a second, Theresa thought she saw something like…sympathy flash across his handsome face. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by that smirk that was both impossibly infuriating and aggrevatingly adorable. 

"And why might that be, Theresa?" Ethan taunted, crossing his tanned arms across his chest. She lifted her eyes and met his, wishing with all her might that he would stop being such a jerk so she wouldn't feel so stupid thinking he was gorgeous. 

"I think you know why, Mr. Crane." 

And she knew he understood. The wavering emotions that crossed his face…he understood exactly. 

Perhaps she was imagining it, but he seemed almost…sad with his understanding. Like, he accepted his position in life, but didn't particularly relish it. And Theresa, as much as she disliked this man, felt her heart going out to him, because what a sad thing it was, to live a life that you didn't have a zest for. 

"Right. Well, let me just copy your info down…"Ethan finally said, turning towards his car to get a pen and some paper. 

"What!?! You've got to be kidding me!" Theresa exploded, no longer caring who he was. "You practically own this entire town, and you won't swallow the few hundred bucks that repairing your car might cost you? Gosh, you're not only a brat, you're cheap, too." 

So much for feeling sympathy towards the guy. 

"Tsk, tsk. Theresa, it's the _principle_ of the situation. You caused this accident, so _you_ need to pay for the damages." 

"Ugh! You are the biggest creep I've ever met! God, and to think I almost felt bad for you!" 

Theresa was now the one wearing the smug grin as Ethan scrunched his face up in confusion. 

"Excuse me? You felt bad for _me_? Do tell." 

"I said _ALMOST_, Mr. Crane, and only because it's a horrible thing to be living a life that you obviously don't enjoy." 

Ethan stared at her silently, his face once again confused. It was a sad confusion, one that made Theresa once again feel sympathy for him. And as he stared at her, Theresa stopped seeing the cocky, arrogant jerk, and instead saw him as the lost, frightened little boy that he really was. Then, throwing Theresa completely off guard, he handed over her license and insurance card. 

"I won't be needing these, Theresa." 

He turned towards his car, and Theresa suddenly felt the urge to comfort him, to hug him…to be there for him. Why, she had no idea, but there was something about him that just drew her to him. 

"Ethan-" 

Ethan whirled back around, his face hardened. 

"It's Mr. Crane to you, Theresa, and now, if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere that I need to be." 

Theresa's jaw dropped once more as he climbed into his Mustang. The nerve of that guy! 

"Oh, and Theresa?" 

Ethan stuck his head out of the window, the cocky smile back on his face. 

"It was certainly nice _running_ into you!" Ethan left, wiggling his fingers at her in an exaggerated wave. 

And with that, he sped off, leaving a seriously pissed off, seriously _bewildered_ Theresa Lopez- Fitzgerald behind.


	5. Chapter Four

**__**

Chapter Four 

By the time Theresa made it to the Book Café, the early dinner rush was already in full swing. 

"Excuse me! Excuse me!" she bellowed loudly as she darted through the crowd, weaving her way to the back room, where she donned her apron and name badge. 

"Hey, Chad!" Theresa exclaimed to one of her co-workers as she slipped back behind the counter, smiling as she counted her bank. 

"Hey gi-" 

Chas Harris's voice drifted off as he looked over at her, his eyes nearly bugging out of socket as his eyes swept over her face. Theresa self-consciously ran her hand over the huge, nastily bruised bump on her forehead. With everything that had followed after the accident, she had completely forgotten about the knot. 

"I got in a wreck," she exclaimed, shrugging her shoulders. 

"Are you doin' a'ight?" Chad drawled, shifting his eyes up and down her body in a search for more injuries. 

"I'm okay…but ugh! The guy who ran into me was such a total jerk! He had a rotten attitude, and he tried to blame the whole thing on _me_, when it was obviously not all my fault." 

Chad just shot her an amused glance. He knew that when somebody made Theresa Lopez- Fitzgerald angry, she held nothing back. And he had a feeling that this case was no different. 

"I mean, really, Chad. He was nothing but an obnoxious creep, and if I ever see him again, it will be all too soon." 

"That bad, huh?" 

The voice did not belong to Chad. With a sinking feeling, she turned to face Ethan Crane, standing at the counter, one corner of his oh-so-kissable lips turned up into a smirk. 

"Oh, God, why me?" Theresa exclaimed loudly, throwing her arms up into the air. Chad glanced between the two in amusement, realizing that the guy standing before them was the total creep who had ran into Theresa's car. 

__

This oughta be good, he mused to himself, waiting for the fireworks to begin. 

And in response to Theresa's bemoaning, Ethan just let out a hearty laugh, knowing fully well that it would do nothing but infuriate Theresa even more. 

__

Let the games began, Chad thought, folding his arms and waiting for the show to start. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

After Ethan had left the scene of the accident, he spent an hour driving around Harmony, thinking that this had been the worst day of his life. His wife had kicked him out. His mother and father were divorcing. His prized possession had been wrecked, and he had been extremely rude to an undeserving victim. 

All in all, Ethan felt horrible. He normally wasn't such a prick, but there was something about this Theresa girl that…_scared_ him. 

It wasn't her model-worthy looks, or her undeniably sexy body. It wasn't the way her hair fell into luscious waves down her back or her smile radiating pure warmth. It was her eyes, and the way they seemed to stare straight into his soul, and see who he really was inside that scared him. No woman had ever frightened Ethan like this. 

With Gwen…he had known her since they were in diapers. Yeah, she knew who he really was, but that was because of years spent together, loving one another. 

It seriously freaked Ethan out that this Theresa girl, upon minutes of meeting him, could pinpoint his insecurities and faults to a "T". 

And Ethan Crane hated feeling freaked out. 

__

Just forget about her, Crane, Ethan told himself as he swung into an empty parking spot at the Book Café. _It's not like you'll ever see her again, and if you do, you'll apologize, and get on with your life. _

Get on with winning back your wife. 

But as Ethan entered the Book Café, he felt his resolve fly out the window. Standing behind the counter was Theresa, her face scrunched up in concentration as she discussed something with a tall, dark guy. 

The noise in the dining room was nearly deafening, but as Ethan stepped closer to the counter to order, he was able to pick up snippets of what she was saying. 

"The guy who ran into me was such a total jerk!" 

That caused Ethan's ears to perk up a bit as he maneuvered through the crowd. 

As he reached the counter, she turned to face her coworker, her dark hair swishing lightly with her movement. 

"I mean, really, Chad. He was nothing but an obnoxious creep, and if I ever see him again, it will be all too soon." 

"That bad, huh?" 

Ethan hadn't even realized the words had come out of his mouth until she whirled back around, an astonished look on her face. 

"Oh, God, why me?" she exclaimed loudly, throwing her arms up in the air and glancing at the ceiling. Ethan couldn't contain his laughter as she rolled her eyes angrily and placed her hands on her hips. 

Ethan had been prepared to apologize for his previous behavior the next time that he saw Theresa, but this was a bit too soon. And as much as it confused him, he was slowly starting to realize that bantering with this girl was the most fun he had had in a long time. She was just so easy to pick on! And the look on her face as she tried to come up with the perfect comeback…it was just way too adorable. 

"What are you doing here?" she spat out, eyes narrowing into angry slits. 

"Just stopped in to grab a cup of coffee," Ethan explained, pulling out his wallet. 

"And out of all of the coffee shops in Harmony, you just happened to come in here? What, did you see my car in the parking lot, and-" 

She stopped suddenly as the guy she had been talking to cleared his throat. 

"Theresa, this _is_the only coffee shop in Harmony." 

Her face reddened at the guy's words. Once more, Ethan let out an amused laugh as she struggled to find something to say. 

"Well, I, uh…" 

"So, Theresa, are you going to take my order or what? I didn't come in here just to exchange pleasantries with you." 

"So sorry, _Mr. Crane_. How rude of me! So, what can I get for you today?" 

Ethan took his time in answering. Theresa shoved a menu at him and began impatiently drumming her fingers on the glass pastry case. 

"Hmmm…the Tuna Croissant Sandwich sounds just delicious, but, so does the smoked salmon enchiladas." 

"Why don't you order both? I mean, it must be difficult eating for two." 

Ethan lowered the menu from his face, leaning against the counter, waiting for an explanation. She stood before him, eyes wide and innocent, which aggrevated Ethan to no end. 

"Eating for two?" 

Ethan glanced over at the guy Theresa had been talking to when he walked up, not surprised to see the guy straightening up around the cash register, pretending not to eavesdrop. 

"Yeah. You and your ego." 

Theresa smiled triumphantly while Ethan just stared at her in disbelief. 

"_Excuse me?_ I didn't come in here to be insulted, Theresa." 

"Well, it's not like I insult people who aren't deserving, Mr. Crane." 

It was Ethan's turn to blush furiously. She had him there. 

"I guess just give me a bowl of _Poblano_ soup, and a large mocha cappuccino, please." 

She jotted down his order, and in a strained voice, asked him to please take a seat. 

Ethan sat down on an overstuffed velvet couch and began flipping through the _Harmony Herald_, not surprised in the least to see a photo of his father on the front at a recent City Council meeting. He was glancing over the accompanying article when he felt a vibration coming from his pocket. 

His cell phone. 

"Hello?" he answered when he saw that it was his mother calling. 

__

"Ethan, dear, where are you? You rushed off so quickly when we got home that we didn't even get to finish what we were discussing." 

Ethan sighed softly, rubbing his temple. He really didn't feel like dealing with this right now. 

"Sorry, mother, I don't want to discuss this now. I've had an extremely…_difficult_ run in with an extremely neurotic person, and all I want to do right now is to eat a bowl of soup and catch up on some reading. Unless, of course, my psycho waitress decides to poison my soup, in which case, I don't think that I would like to eat it. I wouldn't put it past her, though. But if she _doesn't_ poison my soup, then I would like to be able to eat it, in peace. Is that okay with you?" 

Ethan had found early on in life that by stretching the truth to his mother made things in his life a bit easier. And truth be told, his run-ins with Theresa hadn't been extremely difficult, just kind of…bizarre. And Theresa wasn't _extremely_ neurotic, just slightly neurotic. 

But he still wouldn't put it past her if she did indeed poison his meal. 

"Oh, my! Are you okay?" 

Before Ethan had a chance to respond, he felt something gooey running down his forehead. It dripped down his face onto his lap, and before he even had the chance to see what it was, Theresa was kneeling in front of him, eyes sparkling. She had was holding a large bowl with the remnants of his _Poblano_ soup in her hands. She set the bowl down on the table beside her, then lifted her hand to his face, running her index finger lightly across his cheek. Then slowly, she lifted it to her mouth, licking it almost sensuously. Ethan squirmed at her touch, not quite fathoming what had just happened. 

Then, she suddenly stood up and leaned in towards him, her breath tickling his neck. 

"No poison there," Theresa whispered into his ear, then she pulled back and practically skipped away. His cheek burned where her finger had caressed him. 

"Ethan? Are you there? ETHAN?" his mother creamed into his cell phone, snapping him out of his shock. As realization dawned on him over what had just taken place, a single thought formed in the back of his mind, one that wouldn't go away. 

__

This is war. And Theresa Lopez- Fitzgerald, you are going down. 


	6. Chapter Five

**__**

Chapter Five 

"Theresa, dear, do come in!" 

Ivy Crane smiled at Theresa from behind her mahogany, the warmth of her smile not quite reaching her eyes. Theresa felt a wave of relief wash over her as Ivy motioned for her to enter her office, dawning on the realization that Ivy apparently had not heard of the events of the previous evening. 

Last night had gone from bad to worse after the _Poblano_ soup incident. After Ethan had stormed off in a rage, mumbling something about "extracting revenge", the owner of the Book Café had shown up, seething at the gills. He had caught wind of what had gone down earlier that evening, and had fired her on the spot. Not only had she dumped a bowl of soup on the head of a paying customer, she had dumped a bowl of soup on the head of a Crane. 

Theresa had a night of fitful sleep. Every time she had finally dozed off, she had awaken with worried thoughts running through her head. What if Mrs. Crane found out what happened between Theresa and her son? What if she too fired Theresa, leaving her broke and with a car to fix? 

Shortly before sunrise, Theresa gave up on sleep, and got up and began to get ready for the day. Her mind never strayed from Ethan Crane, though. 

Theresa knew that she had a tendency to be a bit impulsive, but she felt justified in yesterday's actions. As far as she was concerned, Ethan Crane deserved a lot more than a bowl of soup poured on his head! 

The nerve of that guy, saying that she was both neurotic _and_ psycho! As far as Theresa could tell, their dislike of one another had been caused by him screaming at her after the car wreck, and Theresa not being able to reign in her own temper. 

But who could blame her? She had been nothing but nice to him up until he chose to jump down her throat, not to mention instantly infatuated. Heck, _infatuated_ didn't even begin to describe how Theresa felt when her eyes first met his. When the vision of what your children might look like together flashed through your head, you knew that it was more than a simple crush. 

The thing annoyed Theresa to no end, though, was the fact that she could alternate from wanting to kick him-**HARD**- where it counted, to wanting to feel his luscious lips on hers in a matter of seconds. 

GRRR!!!! 

So damn annoying! 

As Theresa got herself ready for work, she made a vow to herself to stay far, far away from Ethan while she worked for Ivy Crane. Avoid him at all cost. 

That is, if she still _had_ a job with Ivy Crane. 

"Good morning, Mrs. Crane," Theresa said as cheerfully as she could, smoothing her knee length black skirt across her thighs as she sat down. 

"Same to you, dear," Ivy said, turning her concentration back to her appointment book. Theresa sat in silence for a few minutes, eyes trained on the bright sun outdoors, wishing that she had never had the displeasure of meeting Ethan Crane. 

"What's on the agenda for today, Mrs. Crane?" 

"I'm so glad you asked that, Theresa. I have a special "project" for you to work on." 

Theresa figured Mrs. Crane would say something about flower arrangements (one of her specialties), or something about the Children's Ward Gala. However, nothing could prepare Theresa for what Ivy Crane said next. 

"I want you to spend the day with my son, Ethan." 

Theresa's jaw went slack with shock. No, No, No!!! This was all wrong! She was supposed to be _avoiding_ the pompous creep, not spending quality time with him! 

"You want me to **_WHAT_**?" 

The words flew out of Theresa's mouth before she could stop them. They came out in a shrill, high pitched voice that would surely arouse Mrs. Crane's suspicions. Luckily, though, Ivy merely raised a skeptical brow and continued as if Theresa hadn't spoken. 

"I want you to spend some time with my son. Re-aquaint him with Harmony. He's had a rough few days, and could use a little cheering up. You have such a delightful demeanor, Theresa, and I am certain that after a few hours with you, his good spirits will return." 

With a sinking feeling, Theresa realized that Mrs. Crane honestly wanted them to spend the day together. She wasn't kidding around about her getting chummy with her darling son, Ethan "The World's Biggest Prick" Crane. Spending so much time with him was surely to be almost unbearable! 

It wouldn't be _completely_ unbearable, though, because Theresa tried to always find a bright spot with every situation. 

And the bright spot with having to hang out with Ethan was the fact that she would be getting paid to do so. 

__

Bwa ha ha.

A loud banging on his bedroom door roused Ethan from his sleep. He rolled onto his side and raised open one sleepy eyelid, glancing at the clock on the table beside his bed. _8:23 am_. Ethan couldn't fathom _why_ anyone would be banging on his door so early in the morning, but he would admit that he was more than grateful to be awoken from the disturbing dream that he was having. 

The dream had started off normal enough… 

__

Ethan and his wife were walking along a well-worn path in the woods of Harmony. Between them, a little boy held onto both of their hands, shrieking with delight as they reached a playground filled with kids. 

"Momma, daddy, up!" he cried, and Ethan and his wife lifted the boy in the air much to his enjoment. 

The boy was Ethan's son! 

He was the spitting image of Ethan when he was younger, with curly blonde hair the color of straw, and chubby cheeks that were just crying out to be squeezed. 

His eyes, though, his eyes belonged to his mother. Large and curious, they were the color of deep mocha, fringed with long black lashes. 

And it was looking into his son's eyes that Ethan knew something was wrong. 

Gwen had beautiful aqua eyes that could change from a calm pale green to a story midnight blue in the matter of seconds. His heart beating furiously, Ethan turned to face his wife. 

Before he could even see her face, he knew who she was. He could tell by scent of warm vanilla flooding his senses. Could tell by the light swishing noise her hair made as they walked. The soft tinkling of her laugh as she spoke quietly to their son. 

Ethan's blue eyes met her laughing brown, and for the first time in a very long while, Ethan felt a sense of peace overcome his entire being… 

**__**

BANG! BANG! BANG! 

Ethan jolted from his bed, beads of sweat on his brow. A sense of dread washed over him as his dream rushed back to him. 

__

He had a child. He had a child with Theresa Lopez- Fitzgerald. 

Ugh! Shivers ran up his spine at the thought. What an utterly horrifying notion! He had actually been enjoying their little tiffs, up until the point that she dumped his bowl of soup over his head. 

After being humiliated in public like that, Ethan had promised himself that if he ever saw her again, he would make sure that her life was a living hell. He would embarrass her the way she did him, maybe even more. 

Even though he knew, that to some extent, he had deserved what had happened. 

He'd never, ever admit it, though. 

Shaking his head, Ethan burrowed himself farther under his covers as his door creaked open. 

"Rise and shine, sleepy head!" his mother sang, staling over to his window and throwing back the curtains. Ethan let out a moan as the early morning sunlight streamed and, and smooshed a pillow over his head to block out the brightness. 

In a matter of seconds, the pillow was lifted off of his head. Ethan raised his head slightly and saw Ivy standing before him, hands on hips. 

"Up, up, up! The day awaits!" 

Ethan had no inkling as to how his mother could be so…_chipper_ this early in the day. After what she shared with him yesterday, about her and his father divorcing, he figured that she must be on some sort of drug that kept her so cheerful. All Ethan felt like doing was curling into a ball and sleeping for a long, long time. 

But, Ivy would have none of that. She sat down beside her son, and wrapped her arms around him tenderly. Sighing, she brushed a wavy tendril of blonde from his forehead. 

"Baby, I know your hurting. God knows, I know how it feels. But you can't let it eat at you. The only way you're going to pull through this is by being strong, and facing the world head on, each and every day." 

"But, it hurts, Mother. So much. I…I miss my wife." 

"I know you do. I know. But that doesn't change the fact that it's a new day, and there's things to be done." 

"All I am planning on doing today is laying in my bed and thinking about Gwen. Curtains closed, door locked, no interruptions." 

Ivy's beautiful face hardened as she looked at her son.  
  
"Ethan, I am in the same place as you are. You need to stop being such a…a…_sour puss_ and get out there! Face the day! I mean, we've already been up and working for over an hour." 

Ethan looked at him mother curiously. 

"We?" 

Ivy stood up and began straightening up his room. 

"Yes, Ethan. _We_. As in, me and my personal assistant?" 

"Personal assistant?" 

Ivy sighed as she folded a pair of sweatpants that had been tossed on the floor. 

"Yes, Ethan, my dear. My personal assistant. Remember, I was telling you about her on the phone a while back?" 

"Oh, right." 

"Anyway, she's a doll. An absolute angel. I just know that you're going to love her!" 

Ethan's senses went haywire at her last comment. Was his mother trying to play _matchmaker_? One day after he and his wife had separated- temporarily? 

"Anyway," Ivy continued, checking out her makeup in the chest of drawers mirror, "You'd better get up and make yourself look presentable. She'll be by your room any minute now to pick you up." 

What on earth was going on here? 

"_Pick me up_" Ethan cried incredulously, running a hand through his disheveled hair. 

Ivy tossed her hands in the air and let out an exasperated groan. 

"**_YES._** To pick you up. Must you repeat everything that I say?" 

"Well, I-" 

"Look, Ethan, she has graciously volunteered to take time out of her own day to re-aquaint you with Harmony. Now, I want you to get up, march into that shower, and get ready, do you understand me?" 

"Oh, mother!" Ethan whined, dropping his head into his hands. "How could you?" 

Ivy swooped in and panted a gentle kiss on his forehead. 

"Do what, sweetie? You've just arrived back into town, and you need a-" 

__

Knock! Knock! Knock! 

A knock on the door interrupted Ivy. Her face brightened considerably, and Ethan began to realize that his own mother was indeed trying to play "matchmaker". 

"Ah! That must be her. Now, Ethan, darling, I want you to have fun today. And I'll see you tonight." 

With that, Ivy floated to the bedroom door and flung it open. 

"Thank you so much for agreeing to spend the day with Ethan, Theresa…" Ivy greeted the guest, but Ethan had stopped listening at the word Theresa. 

**__**

THERESA??? 

Ethan's mind became a whirlwind of thought as he racked his mind for a possible explanation. Theresa was a common name for a girl, there had to be dozens of other Theresa's in Harmony. That _HAD_ to be it! It was another Theresa! 

But as Ivy moved aside to allow the girl into his room, Ethan discovered himself face to face with Theresa Lopez- Fitzgerald. She stood in the doorway, face as white as a ghost. 

The look on her face, which resembled that of a deer caught in headlights, would have been laughable if Ethan wouldn't have known that it matched his own expression. But as it was, Ethan was speechless. Absolutely speechless. 

"I...I- uh," he stuttered, trying to find something to say. But there was only one thing that he _could _say_. _

"YOU!"


	7. Chapter Six

**__**

Chapter Six

"**_YOU_**!" Ethan roared again, loud enough this time to cause Ivy to come running back into the bedroom. 

"Ethan, what is going on here?" she questioned, looking back and forth between her son and her beloved assistant. Theresa's face was a pale shade of sea green, and her lower lip quivered slightly in nervousness. 

"Well, I, I-uh, well…" Ethan mumbled, trying to find the right words. Trying to explain to Ivy that I_THISI_ was the waitress that dumped the soup on his head. 

But when his eyes met Theresa's, all was lost. They looked so scared, so _vulnerable_, that Ethan knew he couldn't do it. He couldn't rat Theresa out to his mother. 

"Ethan? You were saying?" Ivy prodded impatiently, crossing her arms across her chest. 

He took in a deep breath and glanced back at his mother. 

"Um, she looked like this…person…that I met once, but, um, it's not her. Sorry, Theresa, if I frightened you." 

Slowly, the color returned to Theresa's cheeks and her breathing returned to normal. Now, her eyes just bore into him, questioning his actions. 

They were also relieved…relieved just enough that Ethan knew that spending time with Theresa would be fun.  
  
After all, every man needed a slave… 

"Oh, well, alright dear." Ivy smiled brightly then left the room, leaving Ethan and Theresa alone together. Theresa walked closer to the bed, and Ethan found himself replaying the scenes of his dream over again in his mind. 

She sat down in an overstuffed chair beside the bed, wringing her hands together nervously. Ethan glanced over at her, eyes drawn to her legs as her skirt rode up just enough to reveal a span of tanned, smooth thigh. Quickly, he dropped his eyes down to the bedspread, trying to ignore the fact that Theresa was the only women ever, besides Gwen, to cause such… _excitement_ in his body. 

He found himself wondering what it would feel like to touch her thigh, run his hand over her skin. He knew it would feel the same as it looked, like pure silk, and that- 

"Mr. Crane, I just wanted to thank you for covering to your mother," Theresa interrupted, breaking Ethan's daydream. " Um, that was a really generous thing to do, and I hope I can do something to repay you." 

It took Ethan a moment to focus in on what she was saying. He just couldn't shake the thought of what her skin would feel like against his, what it would taste like against his lips… 

Shaking his head, he blinked up at her, trying to form words that might resemble a response. 

"Oh, uh, right. Well, I could see that my mother dotes on you, and, um, I wouldn't want to upset her by telling her that you're the loony girl that I dealt with yesterday." 

Theresa shifted in her seat, face hardening. Ethan knew it was wrong to egg her on, but he couldn't help himself. Other then having the bowl of soup dumped on him, fighting with her had been fun. Sort of relaxing… like stress relief. 

"Well, anyway, thanks for saving my butt, Mr. Crane. If there's anything that I can do for you, you just let me know." 

Hmmm…this was going to be very fun. She was practically _begging_ to be his personal slave! _Anything that I can do for you…_

"Well, okay, Theresa, since you offered…I guess, to begin with, if you could please pick out something nice for me to wear today, I'd be very grateful. Nothing too dressy, though. I like my pants lightly pressed, with no starch. Shirts the same way. I still need to unpack, so if you could take care of that, I'd appreciate it. Oh! If you could also run me a shower- just warm enough that there's a bit of steam- I'd appreciate it." 

Ethan shot Theresa what he knew was a cocky grin and settled back into his pillows. The look on her face…it was almost too much to take! Her face drained of all color, then turned to a bright, bright red in a matter of seconds. Her body trembling with disbelief, she pulled herself out of the chair she was sitting in and turned to face him, eyes blazing. 

Ethan could tell that she was trying very hard to control her temper. Her entire body was shaking, and she clenched her wrists down at her sides. 

"Anything else I can do for you, _Mr. Crane_?" she asked, gritting her teeth together and taking a step closer to the bed. 

This was just too easy! 

"Oh, actually, there is, Theresa. I haven't had breakfast yet, so if you could just run down to the kitchen and-" 

"Oh, I don't think so. If you think I am going to go _make_ your _breakfast_, Crane, you are smoking some heavy-duty crack rock." 

"Theresa, I didn't want you to _make_ it for me, I just wanted you to go and tell Cook that I'm hungry." 

"For anything in particular, Mr. Crane?" 

__

Yeah, for you his head screamed out, much to his dismay. 

But when Theresa let out a piercing "EXCUSE ME?" Ethan knew that he hadn't just said it in his mind. 

He had said it out loud. 

Theresa's jaw dropped incredulously, and Ethan's heart began to beat a rapid speed. 

He had just royally screwed up. 

The upper hand was now Theresa's. 

And by the bright gleam in her eye, she knew it too.


	8. Chapter Seven

**__**

Chapter Seven 

"_WHAT_ did you say?" Theresa asked shrilly, taking a step closer to the bed. Her eyes danced with laughter, and she appeared to be having a very difficult time trying to not smile. Ethan sank as far as could beneath the covers, wishing he could just curl up and die. Get as far away from Theresa Lopez- Fitzgerald as he could. 

But there she was, standing not even four feet away from him, on the verge of laughter. Ethan had once again been made a fool by this girl, and it was grating heavily on his nerves. 

__

Revenge on her should have been easy enough. And his revenge was to have been sweet. Make Theresa his slave for awhile. Have her at his beck and call. Drive her crazy with his requests. But noooo, she had to be wearing that ridiculously flattering skirt, and she had to sit down right where he was able to catch a glimpse of that skirt riding up her thighs. 

He once again looked like a fool. Unintentionally, he had given Theresa the lead in their little game. He couldn't blame anyone besides himself for losing this round. 

He could blame his mother for the soup incident- he just wanted to shut her up so he could eat his soup in peace. He could even blame Theresa- after all, if she wouldn't have been eavesdropping in on his conversation, she wouldn't have lost her temper, thus dumping the soup over his head. 

But this time…this time, he could only blame himself, and his raging hormones. 

Oh, and Theresa's legs, and that damn black skirt which exposed just enough skin to keep his mind in the gutter for days. 

But, Ethan knew, deep down, that even if she was wearing her baggiest sweatpants, just the _scent_ of Theresa was enough to put every nerve in his body on sensory overload… 

"Aaahem?" Theresa cleared her throat, waiting for a reply. Ethan raised his head up a bit, his gaze meeting hers. 

__

Bad idea, Crane, he thought miserably as all train of normal thought flew out the window as his eyes met hers... her warm velvety brown eyes, which stared at him almost _seductively_… 

"I, uh, guh-oh," was all he could manage, much to Theresa's amusement. She let out a peel of laughter, causing Ethan's cheeks to warm up with embarrassment. 

__

Ugh! You are such and idiot, Crane! he thought to himself, wishing he could figure out what it was about Theresa that managed to get to him so much. 

But he knew it would be impossible to pinpoint such a thing, because he had a feeling that it was everything about Theresa Lopez- Fitzgerald that managed to get to him. Her eyes. Her hair. Her smell. Her laughter. Her… 

Theresa's laughter died down as she sauntered over to the bed, and perched herself beside him. She smiled, a flirtatious smile, her soft hair brushing lightly against his shoulder. Ethan shuddered slightly at her touch, willing his mind to stay focused on getting back in the lead, not on the way he felt when her eyes looked so deeply into his… 

"Don't be embarrassed, Mr. Crane…I'm sure you're hungry for _something_," she cooed, putting emphasis on her last word. She leaned in closer to him, fluttering her endlessly long eyelashes at him. 

She was driving him crazy. 

And she knew it. 

Theresa sighed, a sexy little sigh that caused Ethan's heart to speed up to an almost an unbearable pace. And when she ran her index finger lightly down his bare arm, all was lost. Theresa now held the upper hand in this game, and there was no way that Ethan would ever be able to win again. 

"No, what was it that you were hungry for?" she asked in a throaty whisper, her lips mere inches from his. 

Oh, _why_ was she doing this to him? Had he really done _anything_ that deserved this sort of _torture_ for a punishment? And Ethan knew, by the glimmer in Theresa's eyes, that she was enjoying every second that she teased him. 

"Um, food?" he squeaked, inching away from her. To his dismay, she scooted even closer to him, stretching out on the bed, resting one arm on the other side of his body. Her arm brushed against his bare chest, causing Ethan to inhale sharply. 

In a matter of seconds, she could be laying on top of him. 

And Ethan prayed to God that she would. 

"Are you sure that you said _food_ before, Mr. Crane? Because, if you were _wanting_ something else, I'd be more than happy to oblige." 

**__**

OH, GOD. 

His breath jagged rasps, Ethan's eyes darted around the room, trying to find something- _ANYTHING_- to look at other than Theresa Lopez- Fitzgerald, and her beautiful eyes. 

Then, he felt her hands caressing his face. Her soft, so soft hands. Guiding his face closer to hers. 

What he was hungry for…what he was _craving_ was barely an inch away. Theresa's lips. _THERESA_. If he could just bring his mouth closer to hers… 

Ethan slowly lowered his eyes, and brought his mouth closer to hers. He could practically feel their lips touching… 

"Are you sure you wanted _food_? I mean, I could get you something to drink, if you'd like, if you were thirsty. Would you like some orange juice? Or maybe a glass of milk?" 

Ethan's eyes flew open, and there, standing before him, was Theresa, arms crossed against her chest, a smug smile on her gorgeous face. 

"Maybe you'd like some coffee. Or, I could get you a soda…" 

Groaning under his breath, Ethan collapsed against his pillows, silently cursing himself. 

Theresa _knew_ the affect she was having on him, and was using it to her advantage. She was totally playing him, and he had fallen right into her trap. 

The tables had been completely turned on him. 

So much for having Theresa for a slave. 

"I'm, uh, fine for now. Um, I'll just, uh-" 

"Pick out something to wear, press it just the way you like, unpack, get cleaned up, and meet me in your mother's study in about an hour?" Theresa interrupted, smiling brightly. 

"Uh-yeah." 

"All right, I'll see you in an hour. Oh, and Ethan?" 

"Yeah…?" 

"If you could, would you please stop by the kitchen and ask Cook to warm up one of those apple pastry things that she makes? I'm famished!" 

And with that, Theresa strutted out of the room, leaving Ethan completely shell shocked, and in dire need of an ice cold shower.


	9. Chapter Eight

**__**

Chapter Eight   
  
Closing the door to Ethan's bedroom behind her, Theresa silently cursed herself. 

Damn Ethan Crane. 

And damn raging hormones that lived inside her little body. 

She slid to the floor in front of his door, a torrent of thought swirling in her mind. 

What was she thinking, putting herself into such close proximity to Ethan Crane? What was she thinking, perching herself up onto his bed, practically straddling the guy, having her mouth _thisclose_ to his? 

Well, obviously, she _wasn't_ thinking. 

"Stupid Ethan Crane, and his stupid big mouth," she grumbled, picking at a loose strand of carpet in the Crane hallway. 

Why, oh why did have to say, 'I want you'? And why did he have to look so unbelievably sexy, all scruffy and yummy, stretched out in that big inviting bed of his? 

"_Karma_," Theresa whispered, nodding in agreement to her statement. 

Bad karma was more like it. Had she _really_ done anything so horrible to have such punishment wreaked upon her? 

Well, dumping that Poblano Soup on Ethan probably didn't sit too well with the karma Gods. And taking advantage of the knowledge she held of Ethan wanting her probably wasn't helping her out too much, either. 

"But he _deserved_ it!" she almost wailed, casting her eyes upwards towards the general vicinity of the karma Gods. 

She closed her eyes, trying to picture anything that might take her thoughts away from Ethan Crane… 

But the only image that popped into her head was the image of Ethan laying under her, eyes heavy as she moved her lips closer to his… 

__

Thump! 

"Ow!" Theresa cried, opening her eyes only to be staring _up_ at Ethan Crane. Her body sprawled out on the floor in front of Ethan's bedroom. 

"Interesting position we find ourselves in Theresa," Ethan mused, smirking down at her. "Don't you have some work to do? Or are you staking out my room, waiting for the opportune moment when-" 

"Oh, give me a break, Crane," Theresa grumbled, pulling herself up off the ground, rubbing the back of her head gingerly. She glanced up at him, her heart nearly stopping when she saw that he was clothed in nothing but a towel. 

The karma Gods definitely had it in for her today. 

"What _are_ you doing out here?" he persisted, placing his hands on his hips. 

His cocky attitude was back. Theresa definitely liked him a bit more without the crappy attitude. If only he was always as submissive as he had been just minutes before… 

"Um, well…" 

He smiled down at her knowingly. 

"I know, I know. You came to gloat some more, right? You were sitting here, biding your time, until you could burst into my room and embarrass me more than you already have. Well, face it, Theresa. You can't. I've already admitted it: _I want you_. I want you _bad_. There. Is that what you wanted to hear?" 

Theresa gaped up at him, her pulse coursing uncontrollably. 

__

He wanted her. 

The jerk. 

"Gosh, Ethan, my mind isn't focused purely on sex like yours. And to raise a better question: why aren't you in the shower, getting ready? We _are_ on a schedule." 

Ethan knelt beside her, chuckling softly. 

"Save it, L-F. Don't try to dodge the subject at hand. I want you. You want me. There's nothing wrong with that. The only question is: what are we going to do about it?" 

Theresa let out a small gasp. 

"Er…what are you talking about, um, Mr. Crane? I don't want…" 

The soft pressure of his finger on her lips silenced her. 

"Theresa, lets be adults about this. If you don't want me, then why was your pulse racing earlier when we were laying on my bed? Why was your heartbeat so loud that I could hear it? And why, now, is your breathing heavy and your body trembling? Don't try and deny it. You want me. I want you. And now that it is all out in the open, what should we do?" 

His hand began tracing small circles on her back. This gentle touch was sending tremors of want, rather _need_ through her like no touch before. A soft whimper escaped from her mouth, and the next thing Theresa knew, she and Ethan were on the floor, mauling one another like there was no tomorrow. 

Kissing Ethan Crane was pure bliss. The kiss was soft, urgent, and it was filling her body of the void that she had not even realized was there. 

Theresa raked her fingers through his hair, over his body, trying to memorize every nook of his body. 

After all, who knew how long this semi- truce would last. 

Ethan's hands freely roamed her body, causing Theresa to gasp as he traced the outline of her breast with a single finger. Slowly- oh so painfully slow! - he slid his hand under her shirt, fumbling with the clasp of her bra, eagerly taking a soft breast into his hand, flicking a finger playfully over her nipple. 

"Oh, **_GOD_**!" Theresa moaned, not caring if anyone heard. And when Ethan lowered his lips to the piqued nipple, she found herself writhing beneath him in pure ecstasy. 

Ethan pulling his lips from her tortured body to inhale a deep breath gave Theresa enough time to control her breathing. And to think about this rationally. 

What was she _doing_?!? She was acting like a crazed woman, making out with Ethan Crane like her life depended on it! While she couldn't deny the attraction she felt, that gave her no excuse to behave like a…like a… **_whore_**! 

After all, other than this annoying lust she felt for him, she didn't even _like_ the guy! 

Ethan's mouth had now found her other nipple, causing Theresa's pulse to race once again. 

"Ethan… we-can't-do-this!" she gasped, her breathing labored. 

"Yes, we _can_ do this," he murmured in response, moving back up and claiming her lips once more. Theresa realized then that resistance was futile, and gave herself up to the luxury of kissing the gorgeous man. 

Why fight it? Why deny herself this wonderful feeling that was spreading through her veins? 

"Mmm, Ethan…" 

"Theresa…" Ethan's voice was husky, lusty. Followed by a trail of gentle kisses from her lips to the hollow of her lips. 

"Oh, God, Ethan," she sighed, raking her nails down his back. 

"Theresa!" His voice more urgent, laughing. 

"_Mmmm_…" 

"**_THERESA!_**" 

______

Theresa's eyes popped open in shock. She was no longer laying in the Crane hallway, wrapped in Ethan's arms. The plush carpeting in the hall had given way to the velvet loveseat in Ivy Crane's office. And Ethan himself had given way to a small pillow that was clutched between her hands. 

She looked up with a groan, knowing exactly who she would see as she raised her eyes towards the ceiling. Ethan Crane, in the flesh, smirking down at her like a cat that had swallowed a canary. She sat up hastily, wiping at a string of drool that ran down her cheek. 

"Sweet dreams, Theresa?" Ethan taunted, his eyes lighting up with laughter. Glaring up at him, she snatched at the small white sack he had in one hand. 

"I don't think so, Lo- Fitz." 

He swiftly jerked the bag up out of her reach, letting out a quick laugh. 

"_Oh, God, Ethan!_" His voice mimicking. As he sat down beside her, he opened the bag and pulled out the warm apple pastry that she requested earlier. 

He closed his eyes as he took a bite, sounds of pleasure escaping from his mouth. 

"Oh, this is _soooo_ good!" 

Groaning, Theresa scooted away from him, mentally killing him in her mind. 

It had been a dream. A wonderful, delicious dream that had left her craving the real thing. Craving Ethan Crane, in all his lustful glory. And to make matters worse, Ethan Crane himself had been witness to the dream. 

"Want some?" he asked through a full mouth, shoving the apple thing in front of her. She shook her head no, and dropped her head into her hands. 

She had definitely done something to piss of the karma Gods. 


End file.
